I thought it was hideous.

Martha told me about it first and then Dickon.

When Dickon talks about it you feel as if you saw things and heard them and as if you were standing in the heather with the sun shining and the gorse smelling like honey--and all full of bees and butterflies." "You never see anything if you are ill," said Colin restlessly.

He looked like a person listening to a new sound in the distance and wondering what it was.
"You can't if you stay in a room," said Mary.
"I couldn't go on the moor," he said in a resentful tone.
Mary was silent for a minute and then she said something bold.
"You might--sometime." He moved as if he were startled.
"Go on the moor! How could I?
I am going to die." "How do you know ?" said Mary unsympathetically.

She didn't like the way he had of talking about dying.